A note from the Hime no Argh herself—

Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed Chapter 4, I'm very glad everyone is enjoying this fiction. As always, I welcome any suggestions you may have for its improvement, or any questions.

Crimson-88 asked, "Will Ganondorf actually turn evil or will he remain on the good side?" Good question. I think I can safely say that out of the main trio, Ganondorf is probably the most integral to the plot of this story. So I can't answer many questions about him. He's a bit of an enigma right now, but in coming chapters we'll learn more about his past and his future.

CronoMaster, you're welcome to use Link's fight against Corunna in Chapter 2 as you suggested in your review. Thank you for asking permission first.

Enjoy!

Chapter 5
Malady

In early September, the first reports of sickness came from Castletown—a fever was swiftly spreading through the lower city. Late summer rains left the streets damp and unsanitary, perfect conditions for breeding disease. The king sent palace healers into the lower city to attempt to halt the illness's spread before it began, but the healers were outmatched. The fever soon reached the higher city, into the homes of nobles and wealthy merchants.

The healers' powers waned as they battled the disease. The very young and old were afflicted the worst. Some recovered quickly, but by the time those who had fallen ill sank into delirium, it was often too late to help them.

When the fever at last reached the palace, Zelda and the queen were among those who fell ill. Fortunately, Zelda's strain was mild, requiring no more than several days of bed rest and isolation from those who might be susceptible to the illness, which meant a lonely, boring week for the princess once the worst of the fever had passed. Her only visitors were the healers, who came twice daily to check her, and her spy, Sheik.

The Sheikah scaled the keep wall and entered by her balcony every evening with disturbing ease, slipping out as swiftly and silently as a shadow once he gave his report. He seemed to have no fear of the disease at all, though even Impa stayed away. Zelda didn't forbid him to come—it was the only way she could find out what was happening outside her bedroom, after all—but she was not happy about it.

She had not yet told Link and Ganondorf about her new source of information. She wasn't sure exactly why. Partly, she supposed, she worried that someone might find out about her spy and report him to her father, and partly she thought Link and Ganondorf wouldn't trust him.

She didn't trust him. He was a goddess-send, there was no denying that—thanks to Sheik, she knew everything that went on in the peace talks and virtually every move the Gerudo made. He had known not only when and where the fever had first appeared, but the names of everyone who was initially afflicted by it. He had even informed Zelda about Ganondorf's arrest before Link's message reached her, which confirmed her suspicion that he was watching not only the Gerudo tribe, but her friends as well. There was no doubt in her mind that he was also watching her.

Worried about her mother, who she was unable to visit because of her own quarantined state, Zelda asked the healers every day about her condition. They assured her that the queen's fever, though serious, was passing; that she was receiving the best of care; that there was nothing to be concerned about. The worry and strain in their faces told a different story.

One night, when Sheik slipped into her room after dark to give his report, she steeled herself to ask him, "How is my mother?"

"She is one of the sickest in the palace or Castletown," the Sheikah told her without the bat of an eye. "This morning she went into delirium. The healers don't leave her side, but there's little they can do."

Zelda smoothed her bedcovers with shaking hands. She was not going to cry, especially in front of him. There was nothing she could do for her mother; if she tried to visit before she was fully recovered, she might only worsen Leona's condition.

When she'd gotten herself under control, she ordered, "Tell me what you know of this disease."

He gave her plenty to think about. The healers' power had little effect on the most dangerous strains of the fever, though they fought it with all their strength. Only after many of the healers in the kingdom were drained of their power, Sheik pointed out, had the disease reached the palace. No one yet knew where the disease had come from; Kakariko, the Kokiri Forest, the desert and numerous towns across Hyrule Field reported no afflictions. And although the illness spread across the Hylian Kingdom, no Gerudo in the Venom Snake Tribe had yet succumbed to it.

The picture he painted was all too clear. "There's little that can be done about it," she said quietly. "We can't accuse the Gerudo without any proof. It would jeopardize everything we've worked for."

Sheik looked at her with his unfathomable crimson eyes. "When the Sheikah discover a traitor in their midst, we spill their blood in the dirt and ask questions later."

Zelda suppressed a shiver. "Your people have more in common with the Gerudo than you think," she said in her driest voice. "Go now, before someone finds you here. My mother—" She swallowed. "Watch her, please. Let me know if there's any change in her condition."

He gave her an ironic salute and backed out the balcony doors, disappearing easily into the night. Zelda sat and stared out her windows for a long time, thinking. He had given her serious matters to consider.

The fever's spread began to slow at last, thanks to the quarantine of the sick in Castletown and the palace, but a long, hard battle remained ahead for Hylia's citizens. Through the weeks of September the healers waged war with the illness, fighting to save as many as possible. The dead were taken from Castletown each day and burned in Hyrule Field; the mass funeral pyre could be seen constantly lit throughout the days and nights of early autumn.

Though the palace's soldiers and knights were a hardy group, many succumbed to the illness and were quarantined. The Silver Knights' numbers were sadly reduced during practice. Link was one of the fortunate ones not to fall ill, but there were plenty others to worry about, including Zelda and the queen. He and Ganondorf worked and practiced together during the princess's quarantine and tried not to worry about their friend. If anything went wrong, Impa would let them know.

Link didn't realize Zelda had recovered and left quarantine until one night the barrack door swung open and Ganondorf came in, accompanied by a short, hunched figure in a long, hooded cloak. He led his companion over to Link's bunk, a hand on her shoulder.

Link peered under the hood. "Zelda?"

The princess lowered the hood silently. Her eyes were red-rimmed and there were tell-tale tracks down her pale cheeks. "What happened?" Link demanded, startled.

"I found her wandering around the courtyard like this," Ganondorf explained. "She said she was coming to see us."

Zelda sank down onto the bunk next to Link, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice was strangled when she said, "Mother's fever is at its highest yet. The healers are afraid she won't live through the night."

"Farore's mercy," Link whispered, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Ganondorf. The Gerudo sank down onto his own bunk across from Link's and drew the sign of the Triforce on his chest.

"The healers told you that?" Ganondorf asked.

"No," Zelda said, sniffling. "I heard it from—from one of the guards." She looked at them pleadingly. "Can I stay here tonight? I don't want to be in the palace alone. If something happens to her while I'm asleep—"

Link nodded readily, squeezing her hand. "Of course you can stay. Do they know where you are?"

Zelda nodded. "Impa does. She said she'll let me know if there's any change."

"We'll wait up, then. I'm sure your mother will be fine." Link glanced up, meeting Ganondorf's eyes again; the Gerudo smiled crookedly. Link read the thoughts behind his friend's amber eyes—he doubted Queen Leona would live the night. Link wanted to hope the queen would fight her illness; he could only pray his words to Zelda weren't foolhardy.

It was a long, exhausting night. The two men persuaded Zelda to eat; they played card games and talked, anything to keep the princess from dwelling on her mother. The hours wore on, and no news came from the palace. Link prayed this meant the queen was fighting.

Zelda dozed off against Link's shoulder as the sky began to lighten. Link had barely nodded off himself when Ganondorf shook his shoulder lightly to wake him.

"Hm?" He peered blearily at his friend.

"Impa just came." The Gerudo was smiling. "The queen's fever broke. They think she'll recover."

Zelda wept with relief when they woke her and told her the news, thanked them and hurried out of the barracks and back to the palace to see her mother for herself. The two saw her off, then returned to the barracks, where Ganondorf sank back on his bunk with a sigh.

"I guess we can't hope to get any shut-eye. The first call will come any moment." He lay back with his hands behind his head, eyes closed. "Today ought to be fun."

Link sat on his own bunk, thinking hard. "Ganondorf?"

His friend opened an eye. "Hm?"

Link hesitated. "The Venom Snake Tribe," he said at last, keeping his voice low. "Have any of them gotten sick?"

Ganondorf opened both eyes and looked at him sharply. "No," he said slowly. "No, they haven't."

They looked at one another for a long moment. At last Ganondorf seemed to read the question Link was afraid to ask, and closed his eyes again with a twisted smile. "The witchsisters are powerful. They know all sorts of nasty little curses."

Link nodded grimly. "There's no proof."

"No, no proof at all." Ganondorf opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling. "Don't spare them because they're my people, Link. There's little they're above." He sighed and sat up, stretching long, muscular limbs. "Zelda ought to hear what you're thinking. She can warn her father, at least."

But Zelda was already thinking along the same lines, as they found out when they next spoke. She had tried to speak with her father about it, with little success.

"He just tells me I've been listening to too many old wives' tales," Zelda sighed. Relief and worry for her mother, coupled with her own battle with the fever, had left her thin, worn and even paler than usual. "Mind you, he is preoccupied with my mother, among other matters."

Link and Ganondorf nodded. The queen's health was returning, but her recovery was slow and difficult. The fever was waning at last and attention returning to the Gerudo; the kingdom waited with bated breath for a treaty to be drawn up and signed. It should have happened weeks ago, Link thought. The Gerudo were delaying far longer than necessary.

He wondered sometimes what had become of Fallen. Did she know that part of her prediction had come true? Had she returned to wherever she came from, or was she still here in the kingdom somewhere, waiting for the rest of her prophecy to unfold?

Try as he might, Link couldn't shake the feeling that she would soon get quite a show.

It was hours before dawn when Zelda awoke hot and restless in her bedroom. She stared into the darkness of her room, wondering what had woken her so abruptly.

A shadow by her balcony doors moved. Zelda bolted upright.

"Sheik!" she hissed. "What are you doing?"

He moved forward into a patch of moonlight, where she could see him. Even in her dim room his crimson eyes were all too clear. "The Gerudo are gone," he said simply.

Zelda stared at him, forgetting her anger. "What?"

"At sundown tonight, they began to trickle one-by-one into the Castletown." His eyes flickered with something—amusement? Zelda wondered. "They climbed over the curtain wall and escaped into Hyrule Field. No one saw them go."

"Except you." Zelda's anger was returning. "And didn't you think to stop them? Or at least tell someone?"

Clear amusement showed in his eyes. "Stop them? I am one Sheikah, Highness, and they are a tribe of enemies. The Gerudo do not forgive, and nor do the Sheikah. If my death started a war between the Gerudo and the Sheikah—that is the sort of thing you want to discourage, isn't it?"

"Then you should have told someone," Zelda said, frustrated that he was right and that he knew her so well. "A guard, or—"

"I have told you, because I serve you," he interrupted. "Not a guard, Your Highness. Not your father the king. You." The disturbing light in his blood-red eyes deepened. "You know what this means, of course."

"War," Zelda whispered, her mouth dry. "It means war."

To be continued.